Several corpses lying beside its bed,
were found by an angel in love,
now if to the past we went,
so in deep devotion,
and thoughts of worship,
did this angel lie along,
in wait for its beloved,
it went ran strange
and often quite
worthless errands,
jumping in horses
in happiness,
or tearing her clothes
to the river in joy,
and offering a dance,
so much so,
she was in love-
And thus, came along,
the corpse,
frightened her to the core,
awoke her from her hope,
and took her to dread,
reminding her of her lover,
at every instance that the memory sought,
to perish, and **** off every thought,
the dread remained, and along came
another, as she moved on,
another dead glimpse of a devil she knew,
who could that be?
could it be the truth?
or just a trickery?
Asked she,
as forced by nature,
and religion,
her love didn't make sense anymore,
to herself whatsoever,
she loved a man,
but had to question herself,
a thousand times before,
for the same reasons that would
condemn her existence
and air,
waiting, and more,
she needed him to collapse the struggle,
as she knew,
and now a meandering presence,
those memories of the corpse-
Now to the past,
the ones that hurt,
before the corpses lay,
the ones that let them come near
her and enjoy her presence,
as once,
she was mocked,
and put to display,
and once again,
she questioned,
herself,
and was questioned again,
her stay, a gift,
and her title as an angel,
a submission
to their conditions,
and then,
a man let her stay,
simply as quietly,
as she would,
she thought she found someone,
but he lived down there in hell,
As thus the corpses followed,
and wrecked her stay.
Her desires of humans,
and of passions to joy
and love,
all wrecked by the memories
that never occurred,
how would that look,
if she were to
question her man and her love,
and her life, and to consider death,
a better human being,
than heaven itself,
still living,
as an attempt,
and thus,
she had to wait,
without him;
or did he?
The folk would wonder,
if ever in true love,
was ever she,
but the truths she knew,
and the comfort
she had gained
was a testament
to his beauty,
and the living proof,
of her failure,
lied along their happiness,
a past she tried to forget,
and move on to hell,
with love,
such was the unfulfilled thirst,
but more intense,
were the questions,
that her love now couldn't answer,
the same ones it once could,
shattered by the terror of
the glimpses that had occurred,
a trust between the devil that
was established,
and her lies that were burdened,
the memories haunted her,
her life so far,
and the past was a treason,
as much the truth,
her present love her religion,
and then one day,
a visual came and went along,
as it was all ruined,
by those corpses in heaven.
4h ago
Jun 4, 2026 at 10:03 AM UTC
In no land of his own,
and acting the way i would,
if I had to dance,
out of compulsion
and prayer,
but never out of passion,
cause i can't,
yet clearly now,
have i gone insane to perform the deed,
or none else can my mind revel upon,
dead is the being, and so,
alive till the body dies,
is my love,
what i did love once,
now needs so proof,
as I am here, once again,
all alone,
wondering what of it all,
if i could never make past,
this land, that is none like my own,
and if then i ever landed onto
the blessed place i dream of,
once, and again,
touched by her footsteps,
I'll know, my life has too been
accomplished,
as now at last,
I've gotten a glimpse of my beloved,
yet so far, only in essence,
and where's the rhyme of this poisonous song of life?
And i could say, it needs none,
as for the rest, I'd hope the ink has already been used,
as I'd hope too, much like the hive,
the folks and friends are together,
and yet, i am here,
in no land of my own.
As he looks past the roads,
and crowds of people,
and my inner thoughts that whisper,
to try and take hold,
or once in a while,
as I'd remember to wish to
witness those mountain folds,
and in chance i forget the one,
those eyes meant to sit beside mine,
I'll know what I've learned,
and Like a prayer,
I'll remember her,
in my phrases of life,
and then again,
pray, as she'll help me
win these fights,
and along then,
As like a prayer,
I hope the air travels,
and whispers in the
message,
that by any chance,
I might've failed to deliver,
as for now,
affected and outrun,
I stand, alone,
a wish outside a river,
or a pool of green water,
scented like the 4'o clock flower.
And all this,
may help me remember you,
and like a prayer,
I've retained our shared breath,
as you'll burn
the corpse,
and let the incense flow
up to mine,
and you'll know the lies,
as then, and now again,
you know,
you've succeeded in love,
and whether hurt,
or in comfort,
I've remembered you,
like a prayer.
10h ago
Jun 4, 2026 at 4:39 AM UTC
⭐THE UNPOLISHED SEASON — Poem X (final poem)
I woke up this morning
without the version of myself
that usually arrives first,
the one that straightens the spine,
clears the throat,
and rehearses the day
before the feet have even touched the floor.
Instead,
a quieter me showed up.
The one who doesn’t rush
to fill the room with meaning,
or adjust the mouth
to look like someone
worth quoting.
I drank the lukewarm coffee
without pretending it was a ritual.
I didn’t consult the mirror
to see if my face
was cooperating.
I didn’t arrange myself
into a person
who looks intentional.
The room didn’t object.
The dust stayed where it had clocked out.
The kettle sat cold on the counter,
unbothered.
Nothing in the house
asked for credentials.
Nothing required the shine.
The weight sat
in my shoulders,
my voice,
my breathing,
without needing to be translated
into a victory.
So I sat down
exactly as I was,
the posture uncorrected,
the mood unedited,
the story left blank.
And nothing collapsed.
The walls didn’t demand a better version.
The day moved forward
without an audience,
without applause.
I breathed in.
I breathed out.
It was entirely enough.
4d ago
May 30, 2026 at 8:20 PM UTC
A life i had once envisioned,
of loneliness,
and stares,
and a head staring down at the earth,
in sadness and despair,
all for the repair,
was a hope,
and a dream,
that a single day,
my life would be fulfilled,
I drew a map,
and planned a route,
towards this long journey,
and towards an even heavier,
and brutal destination,
more so the thought than
the life imagined itself,
and what a taste that is,
so futile our minds are,
and so egregious our thoughts are,
often compared to the simplistic life
we lead, and the wondrous,
and often beautiful acts we commit,
and so thus, empty and invisible
at times to the world,
but vivacious and joyful,
they seem to the souls that depart,
by the virtue of our choices,
whether of love, or care,
or help, or wonder,
and unconditional affection towards one.
Heavier these thoughts indeed were then,
directing a compass for the hollow and
empty life that i may have lead at behest,
as worse and mundane are our lives,
often compared to our imaginations,
and then one day,
a light in red, shined.
In Pain, and in joy,
all when i thought of this shine,
was of its light, and it only,
I swear,
in pain and in joy,
the only act a simple glimpse
of this immaculate beauty
could commit upon me,
was the act of a smile,
an act of joy,
and in the cause of pain,
and suffering,
as my thoughts were,
even then,
all i could think of,
and be reminded of,
was her grace,
a woman,
this was indeed, as i had found out,
that life was not all i desired it to be,
perhaps my destiny.
And from the day, all the realizations,
and the reckonings the soul has had,
leading up to my fate,
is perhaps the fact,
that God itself looked down upon,
this kindred and yet so dull and
meaningless of a soul,
and thought to empower and
complete its life,
by coming down itself,
and yet,
it didn't meet me,
by the right time.
But a chance indeed,
and nothing else this is truly,
a chance at permanence,
and a life of light,
going through these foreign obstacles
in my head, as required it must be,
to not fumble this life,
and form the ground with another tear
of regret in my life,
to be freed of the dark shadows and
the meaningless and
shallow and imaginary,
and unrealistic,
whether dreams of fruition,
or indeed just a false dream,
indeed the latter,
or as now, forgive me,
my father, and my destined creator,
cause i do not seek to know,
or wish to find out,
at all, about this road not taken.
I have gladly accepted what i had,
what i have, and now simply
have no further desires or
wicked imaginations,
of what i will have as i must not either,
to live in a dream,
you must accept the reality as is,
and now,
as this light in red shines bright,
better than a dream,
and oh so wild,
such, this reality survives.
And now, for all i know,
is at last, I am happy,
and have been granted a guide to life,
and this beautiful chance to survive,
so i thank god,
for having come down to earth,
and be in love,
with the non believer,
in pain or joy,
must my thoughts reside,
but from that moment,
that i saw and encountered you,
have only my actions
and choices sufficed,
so from this moment,
I say again,
must my thoughts reside,
but let only my actions
and choices suffice,
and let, in this life of mine,
of all and the many
that i may or may not have,
as in afterlife,
let my love survive.
And let this life of mine,
be an act of love,
with this light that as i hope,
may forever shine.
As all that is yours, is now all mine,
In Pain and Joy.
6d ago
May 28, 2026 at 8:06 PM UTC
A train passed by,
weeks later,
rain followed the dust,
caused through by the saints' rust,
now present after a
long time,
he looked for words to
make the wrong ones rhyme,
and like that,
we saw the copper shine,
some men onboard,
some on the decline,
the one in white said
“to retrace the tracks,
one must cover the facts,
the shoe stay hid inside
the muddy rack”,
the way to say the truth or not,
declined…,
huts set up for a few,
and some on the terrace
rejoiced, the women
could stay unclothed
and all alone,
to laugh at the sublime,
only they were the ones or so,
the others worked like the men,
oft failing to satisfy
the rain,
as their tears dropped in vain,
and never dreaming for a life
they'd call pain, or
full of shame,
for the rocks under their
feet, they'd still mock and
reject the loyalty;
for the women, they laughed,
as the queens of royalty,
their piece of mockery,
and so they were,
as the men enjoyed the
turmoil, below the road,
they stayed glad,
never yet mad or at the back,
cheering without gain,
a prize for the fame,
unclothed in shame or
happiness in rain.
An Afterthought(A question)-
"When I went close to him,
and pledged him my life,
The King and lord of ours”,
such was the sight that he
did sought, imprisoned by
the cage for hours,
a war that he seemed
to have once fought;
“Like the undying shower of
rain in the kingdom,
was that 'the majesty's claim' of wisdom”.
The answer-
“And for once,
I can thank god,
for that everyone who knows me,
can for once-a-lifetime say
they do owe me, for I allowed
this blood of all my friends
to flow through my veins and not
my hearts and hands, maybe."
6d ago
May 28, 2026 at 4:41 PM UTC
the body remembers,
of course it does
so be gentle with it
let it grieve what it bore
7d ago
May 28, 2026 at 4:33 AM UTC
A day or more,
a boy or girl, as it arrives,
it has no clue what it is,
it's told by the world,
despite the truths,
as it sees all of it,
whether grass,
or paintings,
or world buildings,
and world businesses,
and lives, and other beings,
like him, it survives,
finds people,
loves them in different ways,
unlike how it's characterized,
it then forms a bond with one or two,
memorable, but not strong enough
to be felt and required,
with some a friendship,
that seems it could last perhaps,
lust and gaze, and eyes matched,
an obsession, a few lies,
and bones thrashed,
something it'd call love,
promises, that would haunt him later on,
or like words, that won't forget to come back-
And then again, an attraction felt,
it's grown or so it thinks,
and he feels life as it sees,
yet confused, now he knows,
what attraction is,
infatuation of beings,
kinship or romance,
all that, before he could know,
or question,
the bowl breaks down into pieces again-
But as it thinks, it lets it stay,
what the brain remembers,
is what it once said and felt,
and asked it to remember,
it feels something yet,
but it can let go,
for this thing is at peace,
with his beliefs and flawed
choices, even if that was to be-
And at last, across seas and oceans,
it finds somewhat of a peace,
a group of shells and beings like
the life and lives he imagines one
must lead, and once again,
finally something to admire
for not the way it shines or
appears, but simply its words
and works of desire-
he catches this being by heart,
now able to distinguish between
things he never had,
a secure attachment,
all his past lives come to
delight with the shame
of their lives, but now,
in equal pride.
What he feels with her,
is more than love,
as he sees a being,
and he can't help but
question every time-
what is this that's happening
my parts, a force, a pull,
as it gravitates towards
her, not just in attraction
of beauty, or love,
and life, but what he sees,
in her, he desires to see in
himself and more,
what he feels in her,
is what he feels for himself,
now found his true being,
not yet, no,
but indeed mustered up
the courage to find
and discover it all,
and question his life
once again,
a secure attachment,
a peace of life,
a feel of love,
not like the sisters and brothers
and kin-members of the past,
a desire of exclusivity,
and thoughts shared,
and all that,
as it feels a desire
in her, as to be his,
and a thought occurs,
of oneness,
and romance,
and at last,
he knows this,
as so does she, as-
Love.
A Welcome to Life.
May 22
May 22, 2026 at 11:48 AM UTC
people die always,
journals go unwritten and words go unsaid
all of us leave something undone,
something blank, something bland
your family will stare at the journal
for hours, imagine the works you had no time for
and maybe some words were meant to be said, maybe they would’ve kept you, made you laugh
so stay
lie in bed all day and forget to eat
cut yourself and swallow whatever fits
keep yourself quiet and deal on your own
or hopefully don’t, but if you need to in order to stay,
stay
May 19
May 19, 2026 at 7:05 PM UTC
1 - Feel Nature
Us, as humans, view ourselves as separate from nature. We think that we
bear any major differences from the grass that grows among us or the
birds that fly above us. We view benign inclement weather as an
unfortunate symptom of the world around us, something to be avoided.
However, nature is deeply ingrained in our human spirit. We rely on it to
live, eat and drink, and to sleep and awaken. Our involvement in nature
is consequential as the animals we keep in zoos for amusement, the
plants we farm for food, and the pests we evade and **** Feel the nature
and the life around you. Go into the woods and let the leaves, wind, and
atmosphere consume you and replace your worldliness and doubts. Walk
under snow and rain and watch the water melt on you, see the water seep
into the ground and join puddles and lakes before it evaporates and falls
again. Sit at the shore of a lake and observe the algae drift with the
water affected by the wind, everchanging and yet static. Bask in the
Moon's forgiving light, watch how it monitors the stars and hides behind
passing clouds, reluctant to reveal itself. Nature moves in seasons, just
as we often do. As one condition of our natural surroundings leaves,
somebody or something may enter our lives, separating one era from the
last, creating a new essence for ourselves, until the weather changes
once again and life's dynamic nature is confirmed. Welcome these
changes with open arms and let the world lead you wherever it might
take you. The sun, in affecting the environment we were born from, may
evoke changes so great in us that we become as unrecognizable, as
leaves change after autumn's cycle runs its course. If we don't let
ourselves change, we will surely reach the same fate as a building built
on sand after its creator refuses to acknowledge the changing nature of
the tides.
2 - Respect Pain
Change will always foster pain, as pain fosters change. Avoiding the
pain of change simply means you are choosing the pain of staying
stagnant. Trees do not avoid the winter coming, though the cold will
surely make survival difficult. In preparation for the winter, as the days
shorten and become colder, Trees will pump sap out of any pores in their
wood, which will act as an insulator, protecting them from any
temperatures they will not handle. However, they will also shed their
own leaves, especially smaller and thinner ones, and let them fall in
order to lose less water and energy. Do not run from the winter. Do not
run from the freeze, and your losses and the sting of the cold air working
against you. Keep yourself safe, and learn to go through life and operate
normally under these new conditions. The pain will, someday leave,
either through more change or familiarity. Life will be different, but
alright nonetheless. Life will go on, with or without you, so working
with the change and the pain it will bring is the only way to ensure you
walk with life another day.
3 - Love
No matter how many times it has burned you before, do not stray from
love. Love is not purely romantic, it lives in every interaction we have in
daily life. Showing love to somebody is not limited to what we do for
somebody or how we act around somebody. Listen to the songs admired
by people you love and feel their warmth in the sounds they've hung on
to hundreds of times before. Love a piece of art by letting it deeply
influence your own art, let the words and colors and sounds of the artists
before you morph themselves into the art you create. Love your body by
treating it as a temple where you, yourself, are the god. Love your own
power by performing your skills to the best of their abilities. Love a
deity you honor by dedicating pieces of your life both large and small to
your worship. Love no longer performed is not love lost. This love is
still easily felt by a warm memory, a preserved gift, or art created in its
midst. Feel every piece of love you have as deeply and dramatically as
possible. Love, often comes as a harbinger of pain. Love also often
arises from the ashes of pain, providing a warmth that you may have
lost. No matter what, love fuels every action we take, and without love,
the cycles that run our lives would cease. If the sun no longer loved the
earth, seasons would hold no power or rhythm. If the ocean lost its love
for the land, life on the earth would quickly lose water, and be able to
live no longer. An artist who loses their love of their craft is robbing
learning and developing artists of gaining inspiration. A person who does
not love life will quickly lose it.
May 15
May 15, 2026 at 2:55 AM UTC